Averagely Abnormal Circumstances
by kotana
Summary: Collection of short stories about average events in the unusual lives of Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham. Chapter 1: Mud: Hannibal doesn't see the giant puddle until it's too late Chapter 2: Sleepwalking: No one's ever tried to wake Will up when he sleepwalks Chapter 3: Line Dancing: Hannibal has never partaken in a 'Line Dance' before so Will decides to teach him Plus more...
1. Chapter 1

Mud

"Thanks for coming with me," Will stated as he walked along the grassy path with his seven dogs wandering around him. His feet sunk a little with every step due to the rainstorm last night, and he was almost positive his dogs would need a bath by the time they got home.

"I enjoy being in your company," Dr. Lecter replied, stepping carefully to avoid the dirt as much as possible.

Will gave a short laugh. "That's the first time anyone's ever told me that," he remarked.

Dr. Lecter just smiled at Will. "That's a shame, too. They truly are missing out on an interesting friendship."

Will shrugged. "Yeah, well I doubt anyone would be willing to walk my dogs with me like you do." He made sure to keep each canine in his peripheral vision as he ventured through the field.

"It's no trouble, I assure you," Dr. Lecter replied. "Would you like to-"

Will jolted around when he heard a sickening splash. The doctor had completely disappeared from sight. "Dr. Lecter?" Will called out.

The ground moved and Will watched as the psychiatrist rose out of a giant mud puddle. Dr. Lecter was covered from head to toe in brown goo, and he clearly wasn't happy about it. He reached up and attempted to wipe the mud out of his eyes, but his dirty hands didn't work very well.

Will stepped closer, careful to avoid the mud puddle. "Dr. Lecter, do you need some help?"

The doctor shook his head and Will saw that his mouth was still covered in the dirty sludge. Since the man had fallen mid-sentence, Will presumed Dr. Lecter had a mouthful of it as well.

Will stifled a laugh, biting his lip. "Dr. Lecter, you can spit out the mud, I don't mind," he offered.

Dr. Lecter shook his head, flinging specks of brown onto the grass.

Will rolled his eyes in amusement. "It's not rude, and I personally don't care. Go ahead."

Dr. Lecter was quiet a moment, contemplating. At last, the man turned completely away from Will before spitting out the mouthful. "My apologies, Will," he said as he turned back around.

Will nodded before looking over the man. "Are you alright? Is anything hurt?" He asked. The usually composed psychiatrist was a mess. Thick mud clung to every inch of his suit, dripping down in heavy chunks. His face was entirely covered, minus the few streaks where he had tried to wipe it off. There was even mud conformed to his hair, causing to it hang down over his forehead.

Dr. Lecter shrugged and his entire composure seemed to droop. "Nothing is harmed but my dignity."

Will laughed, unable to stifle it any longer.

Dr. Lecter huffed. "If you don't mind, I'd like to walk back now."

Will managed to stop laughing, but an amused smirk was still plastered on his face. "Yeah, sure," he agreed before whistling out for his dogs to follow.

They walked back to the house in silence except for the squishing sound Dr. Lecter's shoes made with every step. The psychiatrist had cringed when he'd first heard the suctioning noise, but now Will could tell that he was pretending to ignore it.

When they finally reached Will's house, Dr. Lecter breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you for assisting me back, Will. I'll see you at our next session," Dr. Lecter stated as he turned to leave.

"Wait, where are you going?" Will called out.

Dr. Lecter spun back around to face Will. "Home. I am in desperate need of a shower," he replied.

Will let out a breathy laugh. "You've gotta be kidding. For one, you'll get mud all over the interior of your Bentley," he said, gesturing to the doctor's current condition.

Dr. Lecter cocked his head in return. "Then I'll walk."

Will rolled his eyes and shook his head. "It's almost an hour to Baltimore by car; it will take you forever to walk there."

Dr. Lecter frowned, but didn't argue. "So what do you propose I do?"

Will shrugged and nodded towards his house. "You can shower here and I'll lend you some clean clothes."

The doctor looked down at his suit before looking back to Will. "Thank you for the offer, but I refuse to make a mess of your home," he replied.

Will groaned, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Dr. Lecter, I don't care if you get some mud on my floor, my dogs do it all the time."

"I am not some rogue canine," Dr. Lecter retorted. "I have more decency than that."

Will bit back a sarcastic remark, knowing the psychiatrist probably wouldn't appreciate it. "Fine," he said at last. "I have an idea, come on over here." Will walked along to the back of his house and stood in front of the coiled hose. "Take off your jacket, which probably got the muddiest."

Dr. Lecter seemed hesitant, but eventually obeyed. He peeled the blue plaid suit coat off only to reveal an equally filthy vest and undershirt.

Will sighed. "Great. Go ahead and get rid of those layers too, they're just as dirty," he stated.

Dr. Lecter looked down and began to undo his tie, only to have mud drip down his forehead and into his eye.

Will watched slightly amused as the doctor then attempted to wipe the dirt out with his sleeve, which only succeeded in smearing more mud across his face.

"Well you certainly aren't a 'rogue canine', you'd never survive in the wild," Will mocked, sensing Dr. Lecter's exasperation. "To be honest, it's a little pathetic."

Dr. Lecter growled, unable to get his fingers through the mud-caked tie knot. Will laughed before finally stepping forward to help his psychiatrist. His nimble fingers easily undid the knot, minus a few of his normal shakes and twitches. He removed it and threw it to the side carelessly, knowing the fabric was beyond restoration even if it did cost more than Will's entire house.

Dr. Lecter's eyes moved up from his tie to lock briefly with Will's. "Thank you."

Will shrugged it off, feeling the tips of his ears turn red.

The doctor looked back down and started to work on the small vest buttons, but that was going no better than the tie. Will watched as the man's muddy fingers tried to twist the buttons free of the fabric, but they couldn't quite grip the smooth texture.

Will smirked, holding back any more comments. "Here, I can probably get it done faster."

Dr. Lecter dropped his hands in defeat and allowed Will to undo each button. Will finally was able to get the vest off and began on the dress shirt, trying to ignore the doctor's watchful eyes and warm breath. Will usually stayed in his own personal space, but for some reason he found that the psychiatrist's company was far more tolerable than most other people's.

"There," Will stated once he'd detached the final button. He let the shirt hang loosely over the doctor's shoulders and stepped backwards, retaining his personal space. Dr. Lecter smiled in appreciation and shrugged out of the dress shirt.

Will caught himself staring at Dr. Lecter's torso for longer than what would be considered appropriate, and he immediately averted his gaze. His face reddened when he felt the doctor watching him. "Er, you're muddy there too," Will muttered, giving a weak explanation for his rude staring.

"I believe that was apparent at first glance," Dr. Lecter mentioned.

Will pretended he didn't hear the comment, silently cursing the smug psychiatrist. He cleared his throat and brought his eyes back up to meet the doctor, trying to express some confidence in continuing with the task at hand.

"Anyways, I must confess that I didn't expect the mud to get through all the layers of your suit," Will said in a light tone, hoping to get rid of the awkward tension.

Dr. Lecter gave a half-smile. "Well when I am completely submerged, the filth has a tendency to fill in through sleeves and collars, despite my attire," he explained, vague sarcasm hinting in his tone. "Which now I am led to ask, what exactly is your plan? I assume you didn't make me remove half my clothes just to mock my unfortunate situation."

Will laughed, breaking eye contact with the psychiatrist. "Yeah, well to be honest I didn't work this all out yet. But I think what I did have planned would be better executed if you took off all the muddiest garments."

Dr. Lecter narrowed his eyes, unsure.

Will raised an eyebrow. "Don't you trust me, doctor?" Will smirked, knowing the man valued Will's personal ties to him more than his dignity.

"Very well," Dr. Lecter sighed before slipping out of his muddy slacks, leaving him in only his black silk boxers.

Will felt his face heat up and he turned away. He reached down for the water hose on the ground and, after giving it a moment's thought and deciding to be immature, attached the power pressured nozzle. He spun back around to face the doctor, hose aimed forward.

A vague expression of shock and realization crossed Dr. Lecter's face. "Will-," he began, only to be silenced when Will pulled back the trigger.

Will couldn't help but smile as the pressurized water drilled the psychiatrist directly in the face. He watched as Dr. Lecter twisted and squirmed away from the powerful stream. He considered the fact that the water is likely stinging the doctor's skin since he was standing relatively close, but he figured that Dr. Lecter could deal with it.

"Will, wait for a moment!" Dr. Lecter yelled out, turning his back to the water.

Will sighed and released the trigger. "What?"

Dr. Lecter turned back around, water dripping from his hair over his face. He wrapped his arms over his chest, glaring at Will. "There's bound to be a better way to do this."

Will shrugged. "Nothing this easy and efficient. Besides, you were too picky to go in my house and take a shower. And to be honest, it's kind of amusing." With that being said, Will clenched his hand and blasted the doctor in the stomach.

Will had to admit, he didn't have the greatest life and it certainly wasn't fun by any means. But here, in this moment, Will was having the time of his life. He loved seeing the smug, classy psychiatrist look so helpless and pissed.

Once Will was sure he'd sprayed literally every inch of the psychiatrist, he finally turned the hose off. "I'll go get you a towel and some clothes," he stated, smirking at Dr. Lecter as he walked by.

Will took his sweet old time gathering a towel and some of his old clothes. He imagined the doctor standing in the middle of the yard with nothing but boxers on. By the time he made it back outside, Dr. Lecter had already plastered on a visibly fake smile.

"Thank you, Will," he stated coldly, taking the towel and wiping off all the excess water dripping down.

Will sighed. "Are you mad at me now?"

Dr. Lecter gave Will the towel back and began attempting to pull a too-small button up shirt over his shoulders. "I'll admit, I was certainly surprised, and your actions were quite rude," Dr. Lecter replied. "But no, I could never be angry with you."

Will smiled, relaxing when the doctor's gaze softened. He bit his lip to stifle his laughter as he watched Dr. Lecter try to squeeze into Will's clothes. When Dr. Lecter was looking down to work on the buttons of the shirt, Will quickly stepped forward and lightly pressed his lips to the doctor's cheek. He immediately retreated back into his own personal space, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"Uh, sorry for the hose thing," he muttered, looking away.

Will couldn't see it, but Dr. Lecter's lips had curled up into a genuine smile and his eyes showed a light that no one's ever witnessed before.


	2. Chapter 2

Sleepwalking

"Are you sure this is… okay?"

Hannibal smiled reassuringly at Will. "Of course. This is strictly professional."

Will seemed reluctant. "Alright, well what's the plan anyway?"

Hannibal began walking upstairs to his bedroom, beckoning for Will to follow. "Your sleepwalking habits have become a danger to your own safety. Waking up in the middle of the road miles from home is not something that should be repeated. By sleeping in my home, in bed beside me, I will be here to wake you up if you're beginning to wander," he explained.

Hannibal neglected to mention how he may or may not study Will in his dream-inflicted stupor, but he figured it was for the best.

"No one's ever really woken me up before," Will mentioned. "I thought you weren't supposed to wake sleepwalkers."

Hannibal opened his bedroom door and allowed Will inside, watching as he gaped at the finely decorated interior. "That is only recommended for the safety of other people. You will not be harmed in any way if I wake you up. Disorientated, possibly, but perfectly safe."

Will turned back to face Hannibal, eyes locking for a brief moment. "So that means that you could get hurt instead, right?"

"The only way I could get hurt is if you attacked me. If your brain continues to rest in REM mode while you are sleepwalking, then your consciousness is still in your dream. You will not know what you are doing or why, meaning that if you feel threatened in your mind, you could lash out," Hannibal stated.

Will frowned. "I don't want to hurt you."

Hannibal stepped closer to his patient and gave him a gentle smile. "I doubt you will be able to harm me, but I appreciate your concern." He pulled back the covers of his bed and patted the mattress, looking to Will for his compliance. "Now would you like to borrow some pajamas?"

Will sighed, giving a weak smile in return. "I'm fine with my undershirt and boxers, if that's alright with you."

Hannibal nodded and walked to the bathroom to change into his silk sleepwear, and when he returned Will was already sitting stiffly on the far end of the king sized bed. Hannibal sat down on the opposite side and reached over to turn off the lamp, enveloping the room in darkness. He could already smell the nervous sweat and encephalitis emanating from his patient.

"Goodnight Will," he whispered.

oOo

Hannibal awoke to the sound of sheets ruffling and bare feet landing on the bedroom floor. He sat up and squinted into the darkness, barely making out Will's figure in the pale moonlight shining in from the window.

"Will? Are you awake?"

Hannibal received only silence in reply, and he watched as Will began to walk slowly out of the room. Hannibal swung his legs over the side of the bed, running a hand through his hair before standing up to follow his patient.

In the dark, Hannibal misjudged the distance between his bed and the doorway, unceremoniously banging into a few dressers on the way out. He made it to the hallway, where he vaguely saw Will standing at the top of the stairs. He ran his hand across the wall, attempting to locate the light switch.

"Will!" He called out, loud enough to be heard from anywhere throughout the house. Will still seemed unfazed, and he began making his way down the stairs.

Hannibal bit back a curse, giving up on the switch. They were apparently going downstairs anyway. He kept his hand on the railway as he wandered blindly to the stairs. Will was almost at the bottom already, and Hannibal wondered how he was able to maneuver so well in a foreign home in the middle of the night.

Hannibal tried to step downward, only to miss the first stair entirely. After roughly sliding down about six stairs, he caught himself and forced his mind to relax. He mentally pictured his entire floor plan, hoping his memory was enough to get him to the next light.

He stumbled his way down the rest of the stairs and at the bottom, flipped on the light switch located on the left-hand wall. He narrowed his eyes against the sudden brightness before finally catching sight of Will turning the corner into the living room.

The light didn't seem to have any effect on Will's sleepwalking, and Hannibal moved quickly to reach Will before he could travel any further.

"Will!" Hannibal called, catching up to his patient. When the man didn't reply, Hannibal cautiously reached a hand out and placed it on Will's shoulder.

Will stopped moving immediately.

"Will?" Hannibal whispered, wondering if he'd finally startled the man out of his trance.

Then Will took off running. Hannibal growled and sprinted after him, following him through the kitchen and dining room. Whatever Will was running from in his dream, he sure seemed intent on getting away. Once they had run into a room with slightly more open space, Hannibal took a risk and leaped at his patient.

His landed with a thud on top of Will, successfully pinning him down. Hannibal found himself breathing heavily, and Will seemed to be sweating through his undershirt beneath him. No matter how roughly they had landed, Will still didn't wake up. Hannibal noticed that he did however seem to fall into a deeper sleep. Hannibal could feel Will's heartbeat slowing down, and he decided it was safe to get off the smaller man.

Hannibal looked down at Will, his own fatigue beginning to weigh on him. He considered carrying his patient back upstairs, but thought better of it. Too much effort with little or no payoff. He would simply explain in the morning what happened and why they were down here. However, he knew he couldn't leave Will on the hardwood floor in only a t-shirt and boxers; that would be rude.

Hannibal made the trek back upstairs to gather some blankets. He would have to sleep on the couch beside Will for tonight. He was just carrying the stack of folded blankets downstairs when he heard the front door slam.

Hannibal swore under his breath and dropped the stack, running down the stairs and through the foyer. He had barely enough sense to put on his long coat and shoes before darting outside after Will.

The cold autumn air did nothing to wake Will up, and Hannibal watched the man walk off in the distance. He ran across the pavement, trying to catch up with his patient. Luckily no one was driving at this hour, so at least he didn't have to worry about any cars crashing into him. None of his neighbors should be awake either, so he won't get any concerned questions as to why he was chasing a half-dressed man down the street in the middle of the night.

Once Hannibal was close enough to Will, he walked silently up behind him and wrapped two strong arms over the other man's torso. Will struggled in his grasp, but he still wouldn't wake up. After thrashing around for a few more minutes, Hannibal felt Will fall limp in his arms.

Hannibal sighed in relief before hoisting Will up over his shoulder. The man was considerably thin, and he didn't weigh any more than what could be expected. Hannibal managed to shrug out of the opposite shoulder of his coat and wrap it over Will, hoping to give the man some warmth.

At last Hannibal made it back to his house. Walking through the door, he "accidentally" knocked Will's head on the doorframe. He was unsure as to whether he did it in attempt to wake the man up or just to get revenge for all of tonight's events. Either way, Will remained fast asleep. The empath simply wouldn't wake up until his subconscious wanted him to.

Hannibal dropped Will onto the floor, not wanting to make the journey upstairs. He knew he couldn't leave his patient alone, Will could easily wander off again. Of course, Hannibal owned restraints for his personal work, but he didn't want to bother trying to explain that to Will in the morning.

Exhaustion and weariness must've been impacting Hannibal's logical thought process, because at that moment he decided it was best just to collapse right next to Will and wrap a tight arm around his waist. If Will even attempted to move, he would most definitely feel it. Once he was sure that Will was secure, Hannibal dozed off.

oOo

"Um… Dr. Lecter?"

When Hannibal felt Will squirm, he instinctively tightened his arm. It took him a moment to realize that his patient had spoken, and was finally _awake_.

Hannibal opened his eyes to see his patient awkwardly trying to scoot back into his own personal space. Hannibal smiled before releasing his grasp on Will.

"Why are we downstairs on the floor?" Will asked.

"You were sleepwalking last night," Hannibal replied simply.

Will frowned. "I thought you were supposed to wake me up."


	3. Chapter 3

Line Dancing

"No."

"Come on, Will, please?" Beverly was persistent, her whines loud enough to be heard over the music.

"I'd really rather not. I don't want to be here at all," Will muttered. He hated these stupid parties that the BAU always put on, but Jack Crawford made it clear that attending these events were not optional.

At least this year Will had been able to drag Dr. Lecter along with him. The psychiatrist even stood politely in the corner of the room with Will, despite being a very sociable person.

"Just one song," Beverly pleaded. "I'll even pay the DJ to play one that you like."

Will rolled his eyes and tugged nervously at his sleeves. He even hated the suit he was wearing. It was way too tight and uncomfortable. "I don't want to dance, Bev. To be brutally honest, I can't dance anyway."

Beverly groaned. "Okay, I'll request a line dance of some kind. Then everyone's doing the same thing so you won't feel left out or inadequate."

Will shook his head and looked to Dr. Lecter for help.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to agree with Miss Katz," Dr. Lecter stated.

Will glared at him. "Why?"

"Human interaction is a necessary aspect of life. I believe it would be good for your therapy if you made an attempt to be around other people," the doctor replied.

Will huffed. "By making a fool out of myself and trying to dance?" He looked down, carefully avoiding the psychiatrist's gaze.

"More or less," Dr. Lecter agreed. "By inserting yourself among a group of people, you are socializing to some degree. However, due to the music and dancing, you won't actually have to converse with anyone."

Will shrugged his shoulders. He hated that the man was making sense. "Fine," he said at last, turning towards Beverly.

Beverly beamed. "Hannibal, you can come too!"

That brought a small grin to Will's face. The idea of Dr. Lecter dancing seemed ridiculous.

"No thank you, but I appreciate the offer," Dr. Lecter replied with a smile.

"If I have to go, so do you," Will stated. He narrowed his eyes at the man, waiting for his compliance.

Dr. Lecter sighed. "I would prefer it if I stayed here."

"Let's go already," Beverly said, grabbing Will's hand and dragging him off towards the dance floor.

Will managed to reach out and grasp the lapels of Dr. Lecter's suit, successfully pulling the man along with him.

Once Will was brought to the center of the crowd, Beverly ran off to talk to the DJ. After a few moments, Will heard a familiar song. He sighed and looked over to Dr. Lecter, who was desperately trying to smooth his jacket where Will had held onto it.

Will groaned when Beverly returned with a grin on her face. Watching her begin to follow along with everyone else who was doing the same dance just made Will regret his existence even more.

Will turned away from her to face Dr. Lecter, who stood perfectly still. Will noticed that the man looked a little confused.

"What's wrong, Dr. Lecter?" Will called out over the music. "Haven't you ever heard of the Macarena?"

The psychiatrist frowned upon realizing that everyone else was performing the same motions. "I can't say that I have."

Will laughed, averting his gaze. "I guess I could show you if you'd like. It's really simple, so it's not like you'll stand out if you're not doing it perfectly."

Dr. Lecter smiled back at Will. "I suppose I could attempt to learn it."

Will waited for the song to repeat back to the first motion. "You, uh, just move one arm at a time. You stick them out in front of you first, then turn your hands over, move them to your shoulders, head, legs, and hips," he began to explain, demonstrating each motion as he talked. He felt his cheeks heat up under the doctor's gaze.

"Then at the end of the sequence, you kinda… roll your hips. Then you jump and turn sideways, and the whole thing repeats," Will finished. "Do you think you can do that?"

Dr. Lecter seemed hesitant, most likely wondering if there was any way to get himself out of this situation. Will had a lot of difficulties when he tried to empathize with the psychiatrist, but the expression he showed now was quite clear.

"Hey, you're the one who said coming out here to dance would be good for me, so the least you can do is suffer with me," Will mentioned.

Dr. Lecter sighed and Will knew he'd won. The man waited for the correct timing of the song before reluctantly sticking his arms out and following along with the group.

Will bit his lip and looked away to stifle his laughter. Everything about Dr. Lecter trying to dance the Macarena was ridiculous. For one thing, the man danced as if he were glued down to a board. Each movement was rugged and stiff. It wasn't necessarily off-beat, it was just passionless. Not to mention the fact that whenever he had to move his hands behind his head, he did so extremely carefully as to not mess up his perfectly slicked-back hair.

"You know," Will yelled above the noise, "For doing the same thing as everyone else, you're doing it a hell of a lot worse."

Dr. Lecter frowned and narrowed his eyes at Will. "Well what am I doing wrong?"

Will shrugged. "I don't know. Everything? Try moving your hips more."

The crowd of people jumped to their side, turning so that Will was behind the psychiatrist. Dr. Lecter still looked stiff, so Will took a deep breath and stepped closer to the man. It helped not having the doctor facing him, but that didn't stop his entire face from turning red. His hands were shaking worse than usual, but Will still managed to reach forward and rest them on Dr. Lecter's hips.

Will felt the doctor tense up slightly and twist his neck around, but Will just looked down and avoided the stare. He began to sway Dr. Lecter's hips to the beat of the music. When the verse ended, he jumped sideways with the rest of the dancers and retreated back into his own personal space.

Will knew that Dr. Lecter was watching him now. He could see the man's semi-confused gaze out of his peripheral vision. This seemed like the longest verse yet, and Will sighed in relief when the group turned again, leaving Will in front of Dr. Lecter.

About halfway through the motions, Will felt a touch from behind him. A finger trailed along his spine, making his skin tingle. Will stiffened, but he didn't pull away.

When the group turned for the last time, Will could tell that Dr. Lecter was deliberately looking away from him. One time Will managed to catch the older man's eyes, but Dr. Lecter just smiled and looked away, continuing the ridiculous dance.

After what felt like forever, the song ended. Beverly was on the border of hysteria, and Will began to wonder how long she was watching him and the doctor. She winked at him, walking away. Will was about to follow after her to explain himself when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

When Will turned around, he was face to face with Dr. Lecter. The man took Will's hand in his own with a smile.

"Will you allow me to show you how to truly dance?" Dr. Lecter asked, speaking softly in Will's ear.

Anything Will wanted to say got caught in his throat, so he just nodded.

Dr. Lecter motioned to the DJ and instantly a slow melody started playing. All the drunks that were previously on the dance floor stumbled off to renew their buzz, leaving only a few other people besides Will and his psychiatrist.

Will's heart rate accelerated when Dr. Lecter turned back towards him, holding onto Will's hand and wrapping his other arm around Will's waist. He knew his hand had to have felt gross and sweaty, but Dr. Lecter didn't seem to notice. Or if he did, the man didn't appear to care. The doctor pulled Will nearer to him, closing the distance between them.

Dr. Lecter was much more graceful than Will could've ever imagined, and he glided around the floor with ease. Will, on the other hand, stumbled over both his own feet and the doctor's.

To make things even more difficult, Dr. Lecter then began to try and twirl Will. On multiple occasions, Will would lose balance completely and instinctively grab the first thing he could get his hands on. However, no matter how many times Will ended up pulling Dr. Lecter's necktie and nearly choking him, the psychiatrist would just smile down at him.

Before long, the song was ending. Even so, Will managed to trip over Dr. Lecter's leg one last time. His hands darted out, but he missed the tie and felt himself begin to fall.

A strong arm supported Will's back, keeping him just above the ground. As Will met Dr. Lecter's dark eyes, he realized that he'd just stumbled into a very clumsily executed dip.

A million thoughts ran through Will's head, but each and every one was forgotten when Dr. Lecter pulled him into a kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

Intruder

Hannibal awoke to a crash from downstairs. His eyes flicked open and he stayed perfectly still, listening. When he heard another bang, he quickly sat up and reached over onto his bedside table and slid his scalpel out from its hiding place under his alarm clock. With the cold metal held tightly in his fist, he stood up and made is way towards the door.

Hannibal stepped as lightly as he could, and after living in his house for so long, he was able to avoid all of the areas where the floorboards creaked. He silently descended down the staircase and stopped at the bottom, waiting to make his move.

Another clatter came from Hannibal's kitchen, followed by a wet sound that he couldn't identify. He moved quickly and strode over to stalk just around the corner of the kitchen entrance. There was a tapping sound on the linoleum and Hannibal waited until the sound came closer. Once they were within range, Hannibal swung around the bend to attack.

However, what Hannibal didn't expect was for his intruder to be so low to the ground, standing on four legs and covered in matted fur. Hannibal stumbled forward a few steps before regaining his balance and turning to face the filthy canine.

The dog was mostly a golden and white color, with flecks of gray thrown in. That is, of course, minus all the mud and grime caked into its coat. It was relatively thin, which was to be expected from a stray, and it had piercing blue eyes. The animal stared Hannibal down for a few moments before turning around and padding over to the kitchen counter.

On four legs, the dog was about two and a half feet tall, but when it jumped up and rested its front two paws on the granite surface, it stood over four feet. Hannibal was then able to quickly identify the wet sound as the canine's tongue smearing against his countertop.

Hannibal glared down at it with distaste before reluctantly walking over to it, careful to avoid the broken dishes that the animal had caused to fall and break apart. At least that explained all the crashes he'd heard. He stared down at the dog that, in turn, got off the counter and sat back on its haunches, gazing expectantly up at him. Hannibal nudged it with his foot.

"Go."

The dog backed up a step before sitting down again.

Hannibal huffed and exited the kitchen, walking over towards the front door. He whistled, and surprisingly the dog perked up from the other room and ran over. Hannibal opened the door, allowing the cool night wind to blow in. He nudged the dog again.

"Get out, go."

The dog whined, but didn't leave.

Hannibal did a quick examination, checking the dog's eyes, claws, and teeth. It was dirty and uncared for, but not infected with anything. Hannibal sighed before bending down and manually forcing the animal out of the door. He disregarded the dog's pleading gaze and shut the door. He brushed any fur off of his nightshirt before turning to go back to bed.

Before Hannibal could get very far, a high pitched howl loud enough to wake up the entire country sounded from outside. This, of course, was followed by rough scratches on Hannibal's wooded front door.

Hannibal sighed and checked the clock. 3:07 p.m. He waited until 3:31, but the howling continued. He clenched his jaw in irritation, but he still went back downstairs and opened the front door. The last thing he wanted was a bunch of complaints from his neighbors and to have to replace a damaged door.

The animal happily jogged in, running around the corner and into the living room before settling itself on the couch. Hannibal fought the urge to kill the dog right there, and he instead walked over to the phone. He was hesitant when he'd checked the time, but after hearing the dog jump down off the couch only to run over and knock down one of his priceless artworks, he dialed the number.

"Hello?" Will's voice was groggy and it wavered when he spoke. Hannibal assumed it was another nightmare-filled slumber.

"Sorry to bother you at this hour, Will," Hannibal apologized.

Will took a moment to respond, his half-conscious mind unable to react to the conversation just yet. "Uh, yeah it's fine. Is something wrong?"

"I was wondering if I could have your assistance, it appears that a stray dog has found its way into my house." Hannibal explained.

"A dog?" Will asked, every ounce of weariness disappearing from his voice. "I'll be over as soon as I can."

oOo

Hannibal waited the hour that it took for Will to drive over from Wolf Trap, nearly helpless against the wild canine that seemed intent on knocking over absolutely everything in the house. Hannibal sighed in relief when he finally heard a knock on the door.

"Thank you again for coming," Hannibal greeted when he opened the door, letting Will inside.

Will smiled quickly at Hannibal before brushing past him and walking further into the house. "No problem, where's the dog?"

Hannibal followed Will into the living room, an amused smile on his face when he saw the man light up and run towards the canine.

"She looks like a mix between a golden retriever and a husky. She seems pretty healthy, too, despite being underweight," Will informed.

Hannibal didn't really care about the creature, and at this point he just wanted it out of his house. "Alright. She's all yours."

Will crouched down beside the dog to pet it, and it immediately rolled onto its back. Will smiled before turning back to the psychiatrist. "She came into your house, you should keep her."

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. "I assure you, I have no interest in caring for that animal."

Will shrugged. "I mean, I'd love to have her, she's adorable. Shouldn't you at least name her? I owe you that since you're the one who saved her."

Hannibal huffed. "I didn't save it from anything, it broke into my house and wouldn't leave me alone."

Will was persistent. "Either way, I think you should name her. I've named seven dogs already, and this one should be special to you."

Hannibal glared at the dog. "Fine. She shall be called Nuisance because that is what she is."

Will grinned and rolled his eyes. "Come on, Dr. Lecter. You can do better than that."

"No I cannot. Besides, what better is a name than one that fits her personality?" Dr. Lecter argued.

Will stood up from petting the dog and walked over to Hannibal, locking eyes for as long as he could withstand it. "She's not a nuisance. She's a dog; you can't expect her to obey all your household rules, at least not without some training. Now think, what's something you really care about? If you give her a name that you love and you'll come to love her."

Hannibal was quiet for a few long minutes before looking down into the dog's light blue eyes. He had to admit, the animal was slightly adorable. "Mischa," Hannibal stated, turning back towards Will. "Now take her back to your house."

oOo

Hannibal woke up to a heavy weight on his chest. He opened his eyes to see a pile of fur staring back at him. He was positive Will had taken her back to Virginia, so why was she here? Hannibal raised his hand up and stroked the animal, its coat now clean. She leaned into his touch, her tongue flicking out to lick his arm.

She had a new collar on, and Hannibal assumed she'd obtained it from when Will had her. Attached to the back of the collar, in Will's distinct handwriting, was a note that read:

_Mischa wanted to go home_


	5. Chapter 5

Fishing

"I truly doubt that I'd be any good at it."

Will ignored Dr. Lecter's excuse and loaded up his tackle box. "You'll never know unless you try it." Will closed the lid and turned back to face the psychiatrist. "Besides, you're already here, so you might as well come with me."

Dr. Lecter sighed quietly. "I only came over to bring you some lunch, assuming that you neglected to eat again."

Will shrugged. "Good, now we already have food packed." He gathered his fishing poles and propped them up on the table next to the box, already decided that the doctor was going with him. He refused to lose this argument. "Now, if you want to borrow some clothes then I'd be happy to give them to you."

Dr. Lecter looked down at his blue plaid suit and paisley tie. "Why do I need to change? We'll be in a boat, so I don't expect to get wet."

Will huffed. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you," he said, pulling on his own boots and gear. "Let's go, already."

oOo

Will drove the small boat away from the dock, smirking to himself. He'd heard Dr. Lecter groan when his shoes submerged in the small puddle gather at the bottom of the boat. However, he knew the doctor wouldn't admit that he was wrong not to change clothes.

"You do this for enjoyment?" Dr. Lecter muttered when they began to ride through the lake, spraying droplets of water at him.

"Yeah, it's actually pretty peaceful," Will replied. "I usually just stand in the shallow area and cast my line, but since I have company now I figured that we could drive out into deeper water and catch the bigger fish."

Will rolled his eyes when he saw the doctor try and put on a fake smile. He continued to ride the boat out until they got to the deepest area of the lake, where the water was so dark that he couldn't even see the bottom. He turned off the motor and reached over to the tackle box, taking out a canister of worms. He opened the lid and handed a live worm to Dr. Lecter, who pulled away and grimaced.

"I don't want that," Dr. Lecter stated.

Will raised an eyebrow, continuing to hold out the worm. "You need it if you plan on catching anything."

Dr. Lecter glared at the squirming creature. "I figured that I would just watch you."

"Fishing is relatively uneventful on its own, it'll be even worse if you're just sitting there doing nothing. Come on, I'll show you how to attach it to the hook," Will replied, using his other hand to give the doctor a fishing pole.

Dr. Lecter accepted the wooden pole, but he still stared distastefully at the worm. After a few more moments of hesitation, he reluctantly reached out and held the worm between his first finger and his thumb.

Will smiled and took out a new worm of his own. He slowly tied it to his lure, watching the doctor try and follow along. The man wrinkled his nose whenever he had to touch the creature, but eventually he was able to attach it to his own hook.

"There," Will finished. "Now just throw it into the water." He launched his lure far off into the distance and immediately afterwards, Dr. Lecter's was thrown in too.

They sat for hours, light conversation tossed in occasionally along with some of Dr. Lecter's subtle complaints. However, even when it fell to a silence between them, it was never awkward. For reasons he couldn't explain, Will actually found himself to be quite comfortable around the doctor.

After a while, Will saw Dr. Lecter's fishing pole jerk forward. The man's arms tensed up as he tried to keep his hold on the pole.

"I think you have something, reel it in," Will exclaimed, setting his own pole down to assist the psychiatrist.

"I can't," Dr. Lecter replied simply. The rod was beginning to curve from the pulling, and Will figured that is was a pretty good sized fish.

"Yeah you can," Will encouraged.

"No, I really can't."

Will laughed and scooted along the side of the boat to get closer to Dr. Lecter. He situated himself behind the doctor and wrapped his arms around him in order to reach the reel. The man was broader than him, but Will managed to grab the reel handle, their hands overlapping, and turn it while watching over the doctor's shoulder.

Sure enough, the reel didn't turn very easily. Will decided to get a stronger angle, so he stood up behind Dr. Lecter. He again tried to pull in the line, but it wouldn't budge.

"Are you sure the hook's not attached to a rock or something?" Will panted.

Dr. Lecter pulled back, leaning into Will. "No, I honestly have no clue."

Will attempted to hold the line steady, but it still wavered in his grasp. He knew now that whatever the end of the line was grabbing on to, the thing was definitely moving.

Will shifted his footing again, and before he realized the mistake he'd made, the side of the small boat dipped under the water, launching him and Dr. Lecter forward into the water.

Will broke through the surface of the lake, gasping for air. He treads through the icy water, small waves lapping up just enough to splash into his eyes and nose. Will reached out for the boat, which despite gaining a little water inside, had bobbed back up into its original position. He clung to the side, pausing a moment to gain his breath. Only then did he realize he was forgetting something.

"Dr. Lecter?!"

After a few seconds, the psychiatrist shot up through the water. Will kept one arm on the edge of the boat and reached out to Dr. Lecter with the other, successfully latching on to the man's hand and pulling him in. Once he was close enough, Dr. Lecter grabbed onto the boat as well, breathing heavily.

Will sighed in relief once the psychiatrist was securely holding onto the small boat. He realized how difficult it must've been for the doctor to try to swim with all the weight of the water seeping into his multi-layered suit.

When Will had regained his strength, he pulled himself over the edge of the boat and landed inside. He laid there for a few moments, the sun warming his wet clothes. He felt the boat lean to the side when Dr. Lecter began to hoist himself up, and before long the doctor swung over the side and landed on top of Will.

"My apologies," Dr. Lecter grunted as he rolled off of Will and laid beside him. The boat was quite small, but the doctor seemed to be content pushed up against Will's side.

"No, I'm sorry," Will replied. "I made you come out here, and I'm the one who tilted the boat."

Dr. Lecter smiled, reaching across to wipe a few wet curls from Will's eyes. "I don't mind as much as you might think. I was actually beginning to enjoy myself. However," Dr. Lecter continued, ringing some of the water out of his sleeve. "I do wish that I would have taken you up on your offer to change clothes."

Will let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah, well I'm glad you were having fun. Too bad that I ended up losing a fishing pole to that damn creature. Now we're wet and cold with nothing to show for it."

Will stiffened up instinctively when he felt Dr. Lecter's arm slide underneath his back, but he then relaxed into the touch. Dr. Lecter pulled Will up against his chest, wrapping his arm around the man.

"I may not be able to get your pole back, or even the fish that swam off with it," Dr. Lecter mentioned. "But I can at least offer you whatever warmth I have."

Will smiled, reaching one arm across Dr. Lecter's chest and finding the man's free arm. He grabbed onto the doctor's hand and lightly intertwined their fingers.

Will didn't know what they were really doing or why, but it felt… comforting. All he knew was that with the warm sun, the gently swaying of the boat, and Dr. Lecter pressed up against him, he didn't want it to end.


	6. Chapter 6

Cooking Lesson

"What are we making anyway?" Will asked, watching as Dr. Lecter tied on an apron.

"I plan on teaching you how to make ragoût," the doctor replied. "It's extremely simple, so you can't mess up very easily."

Will shrugged. "You clearly haven't seen me attempt to cook before."

Dr. Lecter turned to him and smiled. "That's why I'm here to help."

Will sighed, looking away. He felt out of place in Dr. Lecter's kitchen. Everything was so expensive and clean, including the psychiatrist.

"What even is a ragoût?" Will asked, eyeing each ingredient as the doctor took them out of the fridge. He recognized most of them, or at least, the vegetables. The spices and the meat were unknown to him.

Dr. Lecter handed Will potatoes and a peeler. "It's a basic stew. As I said, it would be difficult to ruin, so you have nothing to worry about. I'll season the meat while you peel those."

Will tuned out Dr. Lecter's voice once the man started describing all the spices he was using. Will doubted he'd ever make this dish on his own, anyway. He instead started peeling the potatoes, only to be stopped by the doctor's hand before long.

"What? I can't possibly be doing this wrong," Will argued.

Dr. Lecter handed him a bowl and smiled. "You're doing great. I was just going to ask you if you would mind keeping the peels in this bowl, since I'd rather not have the scraps flying across my counters."

Will lowered his gaze, his face heating up. "Uh, yeah no problem."

Will peeled the rest of the potatoes, making sure every skin stayed in the bowl. Once he'd finished, Dr. Lecter handed him a long knife.

"Dice those to whatever size you'd like. I'll begin on the carrots."

Will nodded, taking the knife. He rested a potato on the cutting board. Holding the blade in both hands, he looked up at the doctor before making the cut.

The man wasn't looking back at him, but was instead slicing carrots with graceful ease. Will's eyes wandered, noticing how the doctor's dress shirt clung to him in all the right areas and how his bangs fell loosely over his forehead. Only when the doctor turned his head to glance over did Will panic and realize he was supposed to be cutting.

Without even looking, Will used both hands and shoved the knife down. Instantly, the potato shot out from underneath and flew onto the floor.

Will stood in shock, eyeing the spot where the potato used to be, before looking back up at the doctor.

An amused smile pulled at the corner of the man's lips as he stepped closer to Will and grabbed his hands, which still held tightly to the knife.

"It would help," Dr. Lecter began, turning the knife in Will's hand 180 degrees. "If you used the sharp side."

Will was quiet a moment, still processing the fact that he'd attempted to use the knife while the long end of the blade was turned upwards, leaving the smooth outer edge pressed against the potato.

Will nodded, the tips of his ears turning red. He tried cutting a new potato, struggling to hold the slippery thing still. Before long, Will had successfully mutilated it.

Dr. Lecter raised an eyebrow. "You do know that since they vary quite drastically in size, they'll cook unevenly, right?"

Will held his head tall, not wanting to feel any more embarrassment. "Maybe I like them like that."

Dr. Lecter stared back at him for a few more moments, and Will knew that the man detected his lie.

"Very well," the doctor replied. "Then you may murder another potato, the recipe calls for three but it seems you've already sent one across the floor. Two will suffice."

Will grinned, noticing the humor in the doctor's voice. Still, he wasn't really too fond of the idea of chewy, half-cooked potatoes. "Could you, uh, help out with this one?"

Dr. Lecter turned towards him with a smile. "I'd love to." He placed a large pot of broth onto the stove before stepping over towards Will.

Will felt the man come up behind him, pressing against his back. He sensed his cheeks turning pink when Dr. Lecter wrapped his arms around Will's waist and rested his hands over Will's.

Will saw the knife moving to slice up the potato, but all he was paying attention to was the fact that his psychiatrist was pushed up against him and breathing softly down his neck. For a second, Will thought he'd heard the man inhale deeply as if to smell him, but he figured he'd imagined it.

Too quickly, the potato was cut perfectly and the warmth on Will's back left him. He once again regretted launching that first one across the kitchen. He sighed and put the diced potato into a bowl next to the cutting board.

"There," Dr. Lecter said, turning back away from Will to continue his own work the rest of the ingredients. "Now just pour those into the stew."

Will nodded, but instead he stayed focused on Dr. Lecter. The man was still turned away from him, so Will could stare as much as he wanted without risking eye contact. He semi-consciously reached to the side and felt around for a bowl. Once finding it, he poured it into the large pot, still watching the doctor skillfully slice up the rest of the ingredients.

When Dr. Lecter turned back around, Will quickly averted his gaze.

"Did you hear what I asked?" Dr. Lecter asked.

"Yeah," Will replied. "You said to put the potatoes in the pot."

The doctor nodded. "Yes. So why didn't you?"

Will furrowed his brow in confusion before turning back to the counter. Sure enough, the bowl was still full of potatoes. Will narrowed his eyes before realizing that the bowl of peels was completely empty.

Dr. Lecter followed Will's gaze, and apparently he caught on to what had happened. "I suppose I was mistaken," he stated. "Apparently you can mess up any dish."

Will groaned. "I'm sorry, I knew I'd ruin it."

Dr. Lecter walked up to him, resting a hand on his shoulder and nudging his chin up in order to gain eye contact.

"I'm sure it will still taste fine," the doctor assured. "Now, if you would like, I was planning on making bread to go along with the ragoût."

Will shrugged, wondering why the psychiatrist still had faith in him. "I guess. What do you want me to do?"

Dr. Lecter smiled, pulling away and handing Will a bowl. "Here. I've already started the dough, I just need you to get some flour and knead it."

Will accepted the bowl and looked warily at the sack of flour. "I suppose that can't be too hard."

Will scraped the dough out of the bowl and throws flour on it, pushing it against the counter. He finds a calming rhythm and before long, his mind begins to wander.

However, Will's mind isn't the best place to get lost in. One moment he's kneading the sticky dough and in the next his mind makes him see the mangled corpse of his latest crime scene covering his hands. Will's heart rate speeds up drastically as he flinches away from the counter, unknowingly sending a handful of flour behind him towards Dr. Lecter.

"Will!"

Will blinks and the corpse is gone. All that remains on the counter is half-kneaded dough. He's breathing heavily, but he still manages to turn to face the psychiatrist.

The look of the doctor at the moment was almost enough to make all Will's hallucinations melt away. Dr. Lecter now had a white dust covering one side of his face and up into his hair. Will wasn't able to stifle his laughter.

Dr. Lecter raised an eyebrow, unsuccessfully trying to hide his amusement. "Do you find this funny?"

Will bit his lip, attempting to hold back his smile. "A little. It was an accident though, I swear."

Will averted his gaze for a moment, unable to look at the doctor without smirking again. However, when he turned back towards the man, he was struck by a pile of white dust.

Will laughed, breathing out a flour cloud. "What was that for?" He asked, brushing the powder from his stubble.

Dr. Lecter shrugged innocently. "It was an accident."

Will smiled at the ground, finding himself flustered. He felt himself being pulled into Dr. Lecter's arms so he rested his head on the man's shoulder. He burrowed into the warmth, feeling somewhat childish but happy nonetheless.

"I don't think this cooking lesson was very successful," he murmured.

Dr. Lecter placed a soft kiss on the top of Will's head. "I beg to differ. I wouldn't have it any other way."


	7. Chapter 7

Sick Mal

"So I assume you're calling to cancel our appointment today?" Hannibal spoke into the phone.

"Yeah, I just don't feel well enough to go anywhere. Sorry," Will replied.

Hannibal could easily hear the congestion in the man's voice, but just in case there were any doubts, Will then let out a sneeze so loud Hannibal had to hold the phone away from his ear.

"It's quite alright. Would you like me to come over? I could make you some soup, or in the very least I could keep you company," Hannibal offered.

"Oh, well that'd be nice but I don't want to get you sick too. Besides, don't you have other patients still today?" Will rasped.

Hannibal gazed down at his schedule and saw the two other names listed after Will's appointment. "No, not today," he lied. "And I have no fear of catching your illness. I also have medical schooling, so I could check up on you to make sure that it's nothing serious."

"In that case, I guess I wouldn't mind having a friend around. Of course, only if you have nothing better to do," Will agreed.

Hannibal smiled. "I could think of nothing better than to be with you. I'll be there as soon as I can."

oOo

Hannibal knocked on the front door and waited politely for Will to open it.

"Thanks for coming, Dr. Lecter," Will greeted, stepping aside to let the psychiatrist in.

Once Hannibal was inside, the scent of fevered sweetness struck him. He noticed that his patient was sweating through his t-shirt and shorts, but he made no comment. The man must be experiencing flashes of heat and chills every few moments.

"Are you feeling any better?" Hannibal asked, following Will into the living room.

"No, not really," Will replied, sinking into the couch and wrapping a blanket around himself. "Like I said, are you sure you want to be here? I'm pretty sure I've got the flu or something, so it's contagious."

Hannibal nodded reassuringly at Will. "I'm perfectly fine. Now, I made some soup," he mentioned, beckoning to the pot he'd brought with him. "Would you like some?"

Will laughed. "That sounds great, but I'm afraid I might throw it back up and I wouldn't want to offend your cooking."

Hannibal smiled. "I will take no offence, I promise. I will get some for you anyway, and then you can decide whether or not to eat it."

Hannibal carried the pot into the kitchen and poured some into a bowl. He rewarmed it, then brought it back out to Will.

"Thank you," Will smiled, taking the bowl and breathing in the heat. "It smells so good that it might be worth the risk of it coming back up."

"I'm glad you like it," Hannibal replied. "Now is there anything else you need to get done today that you have not felt well enough to do?"

Will shrugged. "My dogs just need to be fed and let out, but you don't have to worry about it. I can get them later."

"Nonsense," Hannibal stated. He ran a hand through Will's hair, smiling down at the man. "I will be right back."

Hannibal whistled and immediately seven dogs ran up and followed him into the other room. Hannibal crinkled his nose at the scent of them and tried to no avail to dodge all the fur. He lifted the bag of food and poured it into each dish, watching as they devoured every morsel within a few moments.

Hannibal then led them to the back door and sent them out. He allowed them five minutes before calling them all back in.

When he returned to the living room, he found Will in the middle of a violent coughing fit. He crouched down next to the couch and put his hand on Will's forehead. The man was still running a high fever, and he was looking particularly pale. He let his hand linger there a little longer than necessary before going on to feel his throat in search for any signs of inflammation.

"Sorry about that," Will apologized once the coughing stopped.

"No worries," Hannibal replied before moving to feel Will's pulse. "What are all your symptoms?"

Will sniffled. "Uh, congestion, sore throat, fever, stuff like that. I'm fine, though."

Hannibal nodded. "Yes, it does just appear to be influenza, but you still need rest. Is there any symptom in particular that's bothering you?"

Will shrugged. "Nothing I can't handle. The only things really bugging me are the constant chills. No matter how many blankets I pile up, I can't stop shivering."

Hannibal turned and sat back against the armrest of the couch. He put his legs up and pulled Will into his lap, allowing the smaller man to settle against his chest. He wrapped his arms around his patient. "Better?"

Will leaned back into the warmth and relaxed. "Much."

Of course, Hannibal knew that physical warmth wouldn't stop the chills since they were due to the internal illness, but it satisfied him just knowing that Will wasn't pulling away, and the man even seemed to enjoy it.

Hannibal didn't know how much time had passed, but it didn't really matter. If he were to ever get bored, he could visit his mind palace, but for reasons unknown to him, he was content to just sitting there with Will in his arms.

Before long, Hannibal could tell Will was beginning to doze off. Hannibal slid out from behind him, trying unsuccessfully not to wake him.

"Where are you going?" Will mumbled, starting to sit up.

"Shh," Hannibal hushed. He leaned over and tucked one arm under Will's knees and the other behind his back, lifting him up bridal-style. With all his practice in transporting bodies, Hannibal was able to carry the smaller man with ease. He brought him into the bedroom and set him down on the bed, wrapping the covers around him.

"Are you gonna stay?" Will asked.

Hannibal paused. "Would you like me to?"

Will scooted over to one end of his bed. "I mean, there's room here if you want to. It's kinda late for you to drive all the way back to Baltimore."

Hannibal glanced at the digital clock on the side table. "It's 8:30."

Will averted his gaze. "That doesn't answer my question."

Hannibal smiled, a breathy laugh escaping his lips. "I'd love to stay."

Will grinned and patted the bed beside him. "Just a warning though, I do sweat a little."

Hannibal took off his suit jacket and slacks before settling down beside Will. He leaned across the end table and turned off the lamp. "Goodnight, Will."

oOo

Hannibal knew Will would sweat, but the man neglected to mention how he often reclaimed the opposite side of the bed. Hannibal didn't know when the last time was where Will would be in the same bed as anyone else, but whenever it was, it was too long ago. The man was simply unable to stay on his own side.

At first, Hannibal didn't mind. He even found it slightly amusing to have Will flop over and land on top of him. But by 3:40 A.M., he was a little more than irritated. He was just calming himself down, when a particularly forceful roll sent Hannibal off the side of the bed.

Hannibal landed on the floor with a thud, thinking about how wrong he was to assume Will would have a deeper, more peaceful slumber when he was had a fever and was filled with medicine.

Hannibal completely gave up when seven dogs rushed over and snuggled into every possible crevice of his body.

oOo

Hannibal woke up when he sneezed hard enough to scare the dogs off of him. He sat up abruptly, feeling a headache crash inside his skull. He felt mucus trickle down the back of his throat, causing him to sneeze again.

Will peered over the edge of the bed. "Dr. Lecter? Why are you on the floor?"

Hannibal sighed. "I decided to keep the dogs company," He remarked sarcastically as a smaller dog wandered over and plopped onto his lap.

Will smiled, apparently not picking up on the sarcasm. "Well thanks for staying with me last night, I enjoyed the company."

"Any time," Hannibal replied with a short cough. "So how are you feeling?"

Will shrugged. "Alright I guess, better than yesterday. What about you? You look awful."

Hannibal glared at him. "Thanks."

Will laughed and crawled off the bed, dropping down next to the psychiatrist. His hand wavered a little, but he reached up to feel the doctor's forehead. "Are you sure you're alright? You're burning up. I knew I'd get you sick, I never should've asked you to come," Will groaned, looking away regretfully.

Hannibal raised his hand and cupped Will's jaw, turning the man to face him. "I would've come whether you'd asked me to or not. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I have no regrets for any of my decisions, nor should you."

Will averted his gaze. "But I infected you with whatever virus I have."

Hannibal smiled reassuringly. "I suppose that gives me an excuse to stay a little longer."


End file.
